


Tomorrow Never Dies

by fightthegiants



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternative Lifestyles, Casual Sex, Danger, Drugs, Gen, Heavy Drinking, Illegal Activities, Illegal Raves, Partying, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Sexy Cars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 21:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1998060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightthegiants/pseuds/fightthegiants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You want a party on the down-low? These are the boys you speak to. They organise the hottest parties, score the best drugs, provide the best booze and invite the hottest girls. They know how to fight, they know how to fuck, but best of all… They know how to have fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow Never Dies

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tester chapter for something I might be working on/continuing for the forseeable future. I want to see if this is something people can get on board with and a storyline people like. Your comments and kudos determine whether you get to read more so REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Thankyou, I love you.
> 
> As ever, the people portrayed here are just for visuals. The story doesn't represent actual peoples views, opinions, thoughts, actions.  
> I don't own any of these people/characters, I don't profit and blah blah.
> 
> Don't show this to anyone used in this story, thanks.

The whole thing operated out of the dimly-lit, damp, slightly smelly basement of a flat in East London. It was an unassuming place, from the outside it looked like any other residence. But behind the door of 24 Back Church Lane it was anything but unassuming.  
It was a Friday morning and Ashton had only just stretched himself awake when his phone vibrated to life on his bedside table. That would be this weekends client checking in for details.

  
"Yep?" Ashton answered the call, his gravelly morning tone reverberating off the walls of his room.

  
"Irwin, it's Kyle. What's the 212?"

  
"Well my friend, we have got something special for you. I've managed to find somewhere in Tobacco Dock. It'll go unchecked because ninety per cent of the place is condemned but there's a lovely little underground warehouse that you can access from a former trade entrance so there's no worries there. Hemmo will have your message sent out by noon, Cal's working on the gear and Mike's on his way back from an midnight run as we speak."

  
Ashton allowed himself a discreet yawn as his client giggled (actually giggled) on the other end of the line.

  
"Mate, people weren't wrong when they said you lot were the ones to go to." The South London drawl of 'Kyle' - which was likely to not even be the dudes real name - sounded pleased, maybe even impressed. Ashton mentally checked off a victory.

  
"We do what we can and we do it well, that's all I can say." Ashton smiled.

  
"Cheers pal, see you lot tonight."

  
The two men signed off and Ashton flopped back into his pillows, puffing a curl of blonde hair out of his face. This was going to be another crazy weekend.

 

~

  
  
If you'd have told Michael Clifford three years ago that he'd be making a (rather lavish) living off setting up illegal raves for people in the UK, he'd probably have told you to fuck off.  He was Australian by birth but now British by blood. He wasn't even entirely sure how he'd got himself 7,000 miles from home, yet here he was at 7am on a summers morning, crossing the border back into British waters on a ferry from Calais to Dover. He leaned against the bonnet of his Porsche Carrera and rubbed his face. It'd been a long night and they'd almost had problems at the French border but it was nothing a bit of Michael's sweet talking couldn't sort out.

  
His team were dotted in various areas around the ferry, blending in, being inconspicuous. This weekends haul had been particularly hefty and getting it back had been a challenge but in just under twenty minutes they'd be on the M20 and charging their way back towards London. The tanoy bellowed above Michael's head to signal all the passengers to make their way back to their cars as Michael stubbed out his fourth cigarette of the journey. He stretched his arms above his head, his spine popping deliciously before sliding back into the drivers seat. He adjusted his in-ear monitor and pressed the button to talk.

  
"Everyone good?"  
The static crackled back at him before his drivers confirmed one by one that their loads were secure and they were ready to make it through Customs.

 

~

  
  
Luke's head was pounding as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and focused his blue eyes intensely back to the screen. He was having major problems with his signal jamming software this morning and that was all he needed because there were 2.5k text messages to send out. At this rate, the police would be on his ass before breakfast.  
  
He typed furiously at his laptop keyboard, trying his best to reroute the jamming commands and just as he was about to smash his face into the nearest wall, his comms came back to life and the signal jamming software rebooted itself. Luke looked towards the ceiling and mouthed a silent 'thank you' to who or whatever might be listening.  
  
 ** _TOBACCO DOCK. WAREHOUSE 4A. 11PM. TONIGHT._**

  
That would be enough to spike these morons curiosity. Sure Luke didn't mind his job, it paid ridiculously well (and so it should for the amount of laws they broke) but that didn't mean he had to like ALL the clients. Tonights bunch were notoriously dickish. A rich kid with too much of Mummy and Daddy's allowance to spend and no creative way of spending it apart from buying people's friendship with drugs and alcohol.  
Luke hit send and there it was, the invitation flew out into cyberspace, being sent to every mobile phone registered to someone aged between 18 and 25 within a 15 mile radius.  
He cleared his portal and shut down the software that aided him to jam all forms of police communication in the area for the few short seconds it took to invite people to an illegal party. He slammed his laptop shut as Ashton entered the kitchen.

  
"Done?" He enquired.

  
"Sorted." Luke replied.

  
"Nice, let's go out and get coffee." Ashton smiled, patting Luke's shoulder.  
  
As Luke and Ashton made their way down the hall, Calum was at the front door, his back to them, clad only in a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer shorts. Ashton reached an arm across Luke's chest to halt him, raising a finger to his lips. Luke frowned but kept quiet.

  
"Course I'll call you, you know I will... You're so cute. Ssssh don't tell all of London... I liked it when you did that too..." Then the unmistakable sound of lips and tongues clashing then... "Later babe."

  
Calum slammed the front door and leant his forehead against the cool glass.

  
"Fucks sake." He breathed. "Why do I always pull th-"

  
"Crazy ones?" Ashton finished for him, laughing.

  
"Oi, how long have you shitheads been there?" Calum spun on his heels, his accent as thick as ever. He'd never shaken the Australian accent as much as the others had seemed to in the three years they'd been here.

  
"Long enough." Luke smirked, scuffing his Vans along the hardwood floor.

  
"Last night's little endeavour?" Ashton grinned, as he made his way past Calum, snatching up his keys from the table by the door.

  
"You could say that, amazing little arse and a fantastic shag but fuck, now she wants me to marry her or some shit." Calum sounded genuinely in despair.

  
"Don't worry mate, we got a big job down at Tobacco Docks tonight, looking at about 3,000. I'm sure there'll be plenty of young fillies there to take your mind off her." Ashton snorted, twirling his keys round his finger. Luke looked between them, he'd had his fair share of casual relations over the last three years but he still didn't embrace the disrespect of women to the level that Cal had.

  
"3,000 huh? I best get onto Lou. She's the only person I can think of that could cater for those kind of numbers. What's the client wanting?" Cal frowned, scratching at the new tattoo on his chest.

  
"Probably just the usual you know? Oh, except there was a polite request for _'fack loads of MCat!'_ So there's that." Ashton imitated Kyle's accent while throwing up air quotes.

  
"I'll see what I can get hold of." Cal replied, high fiving Ashton and slapping Luke's ass as they made their way out into the street.

  
"Calum actually knows a female dealer?" Luke asked, squinting into the English summer sun.

  
"He does and actually, she's very hot. You'd like her, silver hair, small tits, wears a lot of pink lipstick." Ashton replied distantly as he flicked through messages on his phone. Luke was thoughtful for a moment, he did have a weakness for silver hair.

  
"Oh shit." Ashton's laugh broke Luke from his reverie.

  
"What?"

  
"Our little shindig is creating quite a lot of noise on social media already. The 'cryptic text' has been tweeted about 24,000 times already."

  
"Fuck. How many does the place actually hold?" Luke asked, opening up his own Twitter app.

  
"Officially? 4,000. Unofficially, we could get about 6 and a half in there. But it'd be pretty sweaty."

  
"You think we'll get that many?" Luke glanced over at Ashton who was tapping furiously at his iPhone, no doubt drumming up more speculation from his own, very anonymous, Twitter account.

  
"Who knows Lukey? We'll have to wait until tonight. Now, I'm buying." He grinned, holding the door of Starbucks open for Luke to duck inside.

 

~

  
  
Michael had floored it all the way back up the motorway to London, pulling off half way to swap the cars plates as he was 90% sure he'd triggered several speed cameras, and was just turning into their street when he saw Luke and Ashton disappearing into the Starbucks near the tube station. He flicked the switch to lower the window and hit the horn. Both boys heads swung as Michael extended his arm out the window and flipped them his middle finger. Ashton squinted, instantly making out Michael's wild purple hair and dark Ray Bans hiding his face.

  
"You joining us you twat?" Ashton shouted.

  
"Give me five. Get me a drink in." Michael shouted back.

  
He eased the car into the allocated spot outside the flat and got out, pulling up his jeans and clicking the central locking. He sauntered back towards the coffee shop, relishing in the feel of the sun on every patch of pale skin that his flimsy Greenday tank top wasn't covering.  
  
He finally joined the other boys, pulling a chair up to their table and dropping his car keys, phone and wallet onto the table and pulling out his in-ears. He pushed his Ray Bans up onto his head and rubbed absent mindedly at his left eye, failing at stifling a yawn. Being awake for 24 hours and driving to Europe and back in one night was taking it's toll.

  
"How'd it go?" Luke asked over the rim of his coffee mug.

  
"Bit touch and go there in France for a while. Very suspicious, very old, very female border cop. Nothing I couldn't handle though." Michael took a sip of his own drink and sat back in his seat.

  
"Michael Gordon Clifford, please tell me you didn't fuck a granny to get all that booze back into the country?" Ashton squeaked, his eyebrows nearly in his hair.

  
"Shut the fuck up, man!" Michael blurted, almost choking on his coffee.

  
"Well you were a bit vague! You can't blame me!" Ashton shrugged.

  
"Actually, I just sweet talked her a bit. Told her she looked good for her age, told her that her husband should be careful she doesn't run away with any Australian boys back to England looking like that..." Michael wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, recounting his story.

  
"For fucks sake Michael, that's disgusting!" Luke laughed, swigging at his cup.

  
"Oi, it got that ridiculous amount of contraband back into the country didn't it?" He huffed.

  
"Yeah, yeah, you did good. Now listen, this thing is blowing up on social media right now and we're in danger of it running away from us. We need to make sure everyone is on board for tonight. Are Zayn and Louis all set?" Ashton shut down into business mode, glancing between Michael and Luke.

  
"They're set, they'll be at the warehouse from 9pm. They'll be checking every channel for cop noise." Luke replied, checking the text he'd got from their resident hackers earlier.

  
"Awesome. Michael, is Niall on top of security?"

  
"Affirmative. He's got a team of twenty, Stan is heading them up and they'll be at all the key locations and patrolling the perimeter from 10pm. Niall will be on the door checking everyone's texts and taking a head count." Michael nodded, taking another sip of coffee.

  
"Great. Cal's liasing with Lou about the gear. The booze is loading in as we speak?"

  
Michael nodded.

  
"Security and scanners are in place. Now all we can do is sit back and enjoy the ride. This might just be our biggest one yet boys." Ashton raised his mug and clinked it with Michael and Lukes.

  
The electricty of party night fizzled just below Ashton's skin as he illuminated his phone screen to check the time. 10am. T minus thirteen hours.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to read more :)
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr, I'm snapchatclifford
> 
> And Twitter; @snpchatclifford


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